Code Red White and Web
by gammathetaalpha
Summary: Peter Parker feels left out at Cap's Fourth of July party, but the Avengers have a mission. They want Peter to have a good time and nothing will stop them. Two or three chapters max. Loosely connected to Infiltration, but not necessary to read before.
1. Chapter 1

**Intended to be pure fluff and a glimpse of the brighter days ahead for Peter Parker.**

Peter wasn't sure how his first fourth of July with the Avengers was going to go.

His memories of earlier fourth of July celebrations weren't anything special. Aunt May was always sure to pick up watermelon from the supermarket and slice it up for the three of them to eat. When it got darker, they would climb to the rooftop of their small Queens apartment with a few of the other families and watch the fireworks. Uncle Ben would have a beer and Peter would beg to try a sip.

It was a small holiday that he had no bad memories of.

The last two fourth of Julys had been different. Uncle Ben hadn't been there.

Holidays were depressing when you were missing a family member. Their absence was especially notable. The last two fourth of July celebrations had felt off, because something was missing.

Aunt May had made due. There was still watermelon, but they'd both skipped out on the fireworks, Aunt May because she was tired and Peter because criminals were especially active after having a little too much to drink at the parties.

Fourth of July had always been a humble holiday. That would change, now that he was celebrating it with Captain America.

There was nothing more patriotic than celebrating the USA with Captain America.

Tony hadn't been able to make it. There'd been some charity that he and Pepper were attending down in LA. Thor wouldn't be present either. He was still dealing with the aftermath of the Asgardian parasites.

Clint and Natasha had reluctantly agreed to join Steve, Dr. Banner, and Peter in Steve's Brooklyn apartment.

Peter had been hesitant to accept Steve's invitation. Yeah, he was on relatively good terms with the Avengers, but nightmares still haunted him.

Not that he'd tell any of them. They were pitying him enough already.

But Peter had accepted.

On one condition. If Daredevil received an invitation as well.

The Hell's Kitchen vigilante may have insisted that 'Brooklyn was out of his area,' and 'you sure aren't going to find a Manhattan boy celebrating with a Brooklyn kid', but Peter got the feeling he was pleased by the offer.

Even if parties weren't his thing.

Now, it was time for Peter to leave his neat little apartment in upper Manhattan and head to Steve's.

The familiar bus ride went by too fast. Peter _tap-a-tap tapped_ the seat with his fingers, chewing on his lip as he stared out the window.

This was the first time since after the fight that Peter would be seeing the Avengers for a reason unrelated to Spider-Man.

He'd gotten to know them slightly. If he had one word to describe them with, he'd use intimidating.

Tony Stark was intimidating in a way that only rich and smart people can be. If he and Dr. Banner were working on some project together and Stark entered the lab, Peter came up with an excuse to leave. The guy was unpredictable, hard to read, and powerful.

Clint and Natasha were intimidating more in a 'I can kill you with the tip of my pinkie finger and don't you forget it,' way. They very rarely spoke to anyone other than each other unless they had a reason. Peter found he had very little in common. 'Wow, you were abducted as a child to become a legendary Russian assassin and now you kill people on daily basis for the government? I'm sure that gives you nightmares.'

That conversation wouldn't go well.

Steve Rogers was intimidating in a way that was uniquely Steve Rogers.

Something felt off about him. Maybe it was the far away look he got in his eyes every once in awhile, or the serious look he had about him. The guy may have looked young, but being with him sometimes felt like being with a man that's lived a long, full life and was ready to let go of it.

Very intimidating.

Bruce may have been intimidating, but Peter didn't mind him at all. He'd gotten used to the fact that at any moment the man might become a big, angry green monster. If someone had asked Peter if he had any friends, Bruce would've been it.

Yes the man was intimidating in his own way, but Peter trusted him more than any of the other Avengers.

There was a ding. The automated voice spoke the name of the street. With a shaky breath, Peter stood up. This was it.

Even from the other side of the block, Peter could hear the laughter echoing through Steve's little apartment. While most of the neighbor's windows were dark, Steve's was lit up with a cheery yellow light that leaked out between the heavy shades and onto the shadowy street. The powerful smell of burgers wafted through the air and into Peter's enhanced nose. His bottomless stomach grumbled.

Peter approached the front door at a much slower pace than his long legs normally went. He climbed up the cement steps, hesitating at the second, before going up the other three.

Long, scarred fingers paused over the plastic doorbell. Who would answer the door? Would it be one of the Avengers? One of the other people Steve had invited that Peter didn't know? Or Captain America himself?

After an agonizing pause, Peter moved to ring the doorbell.

A split second before he did, the door swung open, revealing Steve.

"Peter! Glad you could make it! Come on in."

In an almost dreamlike trance, Peter let Captain America guide him by his shoulder through the door and into the apartment's living room. Clustered on couches and chairs were different people of all ages. The living room was full of people, with there being enough that it could be considered packed, but not full to the point of uncomfortableness.

Peter recognised Bruce talking to two young college aged students only a few years older than him. They seemed deep in conversation. From the tidbits he'd heard, it was on biology.

Natasha had a smile on her face as she listened to an older man ramble on about 'those crazy Soviets.' Peter couldn't tell if it was genuine, or just another intricate mask she was hiding behind.

Clint stood next to Natasha, blank faced and stoic. His attention was partially on the older man and partially on a slightly familiar face that Peter recognised, but didn't know personally.

The guy was a high ranking SHIELD agent, who's name sounded like Coldstone. It fit him, too, because so-called 'Coldstone' looked like he ate a lot of ice cream. Coldstone was relaxed in an arm chair, listening to a young woman go on and on about some computer-related terms.

There were other people in the kitchen. Peter could hear the sizzling of meat on a pan and the dull _thwop_ of a knife slamming against a cutting board.

Daredevil was nowhere in sight.

Inwardly, Peter was berating himself for deciding to come. This had been a very bad idea. He would spend the next three hours awkwardly standing in a corner, pretending to enjoy whatever conversation people attempted to make. He could be wrapping criminals upside down to lamp posts right now, and here he was, at a party.

"Hey everybody." Steve's voice rose above the loud din, and the room quieted slightly. Peter felt twenty different pairs of eyes focus on him. He did his best not to sink into his hoodie.

"This is Peter. He's a young scientist Dr. Banner met at some science for youth thing Stark held a few months ago."

There were polite waves and a chorus of 'hi's'. Their conversation resumed.

Peter drifted towards Dr. Banner and the two college-ages kids.

"-entirely theoretical because nobody has successfully proven cross species genetics for the restoration of limbs actually works!" The girl had a high-pitched British accent and spoke faster than a native New Yorker. What she said registered a few seconds later.

Oh. That conversation.

He tried to flee to the kitchen before Dr. Banner could drag him into the debate, but it was too late.

"Ask Peter here about it. His father worked with Osborn on cross-species genetics."

The attention was immediately on him.

"He worked with Osborn? Has he shared any of his research with you? What were the variables?"

"I...uh… no. He died when I was six."

Dr. Banner winced.

Yeah. Don't bring Peter into the conversation, buddy.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Must be hard having no father. Just you and your mother, eh?"

Dr. Banner winced again. Peter decided he didn't want any more pitying glances.

"Cross-species genetics might work someday, but it's a dangerous science with very few working solutions. It's not a theoretical science, but I can't tell you anymore than that."

The young woman's eyes widened.

"Oh please, you have to! Imagine the technological advances that could be fueled by that!"

Spider-Man was the result of cross-species genetics.

But Peter couldn't say that without raising questions he wouldn't answer.

He shrugged, and backpedaled towards the kitchen. Bruce mouthed sorry. He looked so unhappy with himself, that Peter found himself instantly forgiving him.

He knew he shouldn't have come.

The kitchen wasn't much better. There were two older men so caught up in a debate on football, that they didn't even notice Peter's presence.

Stomach grumbling, he reached for one of the burgers piled on a plate on the counter.

His hand was slapped.

"Ow!"

The deliverer of the hand slap was a woman that was dressed with more patriotism than Captain America.

The red white and blue shirt was paired with sparkly flag leggings. Her shoes had tiny Captain America shields glued to the front and her hair was filled with shiny silver stars, pinned in random places.

Even her makeup (was the eyelid makeup the blush or mascara? Peter couldn't remember) was patriotic. Suddenly, Peter felt very underdressed in his blue hoodie with red converse.

"Excuse you," the woman snapped.

"...um…" was the only answer Peter's brain supplied.

"Um is right. Um what do you think you're doing? These aren't out of the kitchen yet. And I don't recognise you, anyway. Are you a homeless hobo? Did you think you could sneak in here and steal food from Captain America because he's all generous and stuff? If I had my taser, you would be out cold, pipsqueak!"

"...I'm at least five inches taller than you… and I'm… um… not homeless."

He really needed to learn how to talk to women.

Also, tasers were not fun. Peter hadn't been tasered in a while, but it was a painful sensation one didn't forget.

"Darcy," A new voice scolded.

The now dubbed 'Darcy' spun around defensively.

"What? He was trying to steal food, Jane!"

"I wasn't stealing," Peter muttered feebly. Neither girl took notice.

"But calling him homeless and threatening to taser him? That's a bit overkill. All I asked you to do was keep the guys away from the burgers for a few minutes!"

"He's a guy, isn't he?" Darcy pointed a red white and blue, manicured fingernail at him. "Aren't you?"

"uhhhh…"

"Look at that Darcy! You've sent him into shock. And that's Thor's friend. Thor told me that if I saw a scraggly, tall teenager with an excellent puppy face and a tendency to say "uhhh" around women, that I should tell him hi."

Jane turned to Peter.

"Hi, I'm Thor's girlfriend Jane. I'm an astrophysicist currently studying the theoretical science of Einstein-Rosen bridges. This is Darcy. We mostly ignore her."

Peter stared at the two.

Girls were scary and made no sense. This was why he'd only had one girlfriend in his entire existence.

And she had died.

Ooh, burn.

Maybe it was more awkward in the living room, but it was definitely _safer._ Peter backed up, his hands held up defensively in the air.

"You know what, I'm just going to…"

Neither Jane or patriotic Darcy took notice of Peter's escape. They were too busy squabbling.

It was almost a relief to be out of the kitchen and back in the living room.

Almost.

Peter found a corner of the room and took out his Stark phone. He played Crossy Road for a few minutes, but his eyes were continuously pulled towards his app.

Mr. Sta- Tony had built Peter an app for tracking crime. It connected with police radios, but he'd jokingly made it look like the Pokemon Go game, only with a Spider-Man avatar and stupid-looking criminals instead of Ash and pokemon. The Pokemon theme song even played every time Peter opened the app.

He kept his sound muted.

It was tempting. Peter didn't think anyone but Bruce and possibly Mr. Rog- Steve would notice if Peter disappeared. He even had his suit on under his clothes. And crime fighting was definitely more important than a fourth of July party…

Peter's finger tapped on the app.

The stupid loading screen (it had an animated picture of Spider-Man on the front) pulled up. Peter glanced around. There were no eyes looking in his direction.

The map appeared on the screen.

Three robberies, nine drunk drivers, and a man running around in nothing but cowboy boots.

And this was only in his immediate area.

Yeah, the police could definitely use some help. In fact, they would most certainly appreciate a little assistance from their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man…

Peter glanced around again. Bruce was still deep in conversation with the two science geeks, Steve had just disappeared into the kitchen, and both Clint and Natasha were busy in a friendly arm wrestling match.

Friendly. Ha ha.

Nobody would notice if he just slipped out through the kitchen, onto the fire escape…

He covertly went back through the living room and into the kitchen. Steve was bent over the oven, a flowery pair of oven mitts covering his hands. Both the old men, Jane and patriotic Darcy were gone.

With the silence and agility of a spider, Peter slipped out through the screen door. Steve didn't notice a thing.

As soon as the screen door was safely shut, Steve straightened, pulling off the oven mitts and tossing them carelessly on the counter. The innocent, clueless look disappeared from his face. His back straightened as he went into full Captain America mode.

"Avengers assemble," he whispered authoritatively into his comm. "We've got a Code Web."

The result was instantaneous. Clint and Natasha's arm wrestling match ended abruptly. Any miniscule facial expressions they may have been displaying disappeared. Both stood up and exited the living room.

Dr. Banner politely excused himself from his conversation with FitzSimmons for a 'bathroom break.' Both were sad to see him go, but had no problem engaging in conversation with the renowned Dr. Foster and her patriotic intern Darcy. Nobody noticed him follow the spies into Steve's bedroom.

On the opposite side of the country, Tony Stark was busy shaking the hand of important, famous person number 126. He made a smooth escape.

"It truly is an honor, Mr. Stark. I am such a fan of your work in the clean energy field. In fact, my company would like to make a four million dollar dea-"

Captain America's message came through the comm hidden in his ear.

"Umm… that's great." Tony glanced around. Where was Pepper? She could probably finish shaking hands for him.

Important, famous person number 126 was thrilled.

"Really? I know Stark Industries is not as much into the textile field, but it truly would be a worthy invest-"

Pepper was nowhere in sight. Oh well. This was more important.

"I gotta go," Tony said abruptly. He took off towards the exit of the building, leaving confused, important, famous person number 126 staring after him with quite a bit of shock.

"Mr. Stark," the man called out. His loud voice drew the attention of every person in the room. It fell silent. Tony jogged the last three steps to the door, and opened it before the security guard could.

Yes, a very smooth exit indeed.

The Avengers assembled in Steve's room. Bruce took the office chair parked next to Steve's old-fashioned, wooden desk. Clint and Natasha lounged on the bed. Iron Man appeared, as a 3D holographic projection, from Bruce's phone. The last one in the room was Steve, who shut the door behind himself.

Steve was in command mode. He analyzed each of his team members. He cleared his throat to make sure all eyes were on him, before he began to give orders, infused with a hearty dose of Captain America motivational speechness.

"Tony, do you have current access to the tracking beacon in Peter's phone?"

Holographic Tony rolled his eyes.

"Of course. What do you take me for, a dinosaur?"

Steve ignored the sarcastic remark.

"We're going to surround him. Natasha take north from the location Stark gives you, Clint take east, Bruce west, and I'll take south."

"Where's the bait?" Natasha asked.

"The provider is currently holding the bait for us on the balcony. Remember, this is a mission of utmost importance. As a representative of the United States of America, I insist for the entire country that one of its bravest heroes have the _best_ time on the holiday celebrating its birth. After all, we wouldn't want Peter Parker to become Canadian."

"I've been considering doing that myself lately," Clint mused. "With the current president being-"

He was cut off by a stern glare.

"Avengers Assemble," Steve finished.

 **To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

Sam stood out in the cold, shivering, listening to the sounds of laughter emerging from his new friend's house. His arms were sore and tired from holding… the bait… and his crisp, ironed shirt rubbed uncomfortably against his skin.

"My first official Avenger mission," he muttered to himself.

The screen door creaked open and the (freaking) Black Widow stepped through.

"Do you have the bait?" She asked coldly. Or maybe cold was just how she always acted.

Sam extended the plate out. His arms squealed in protest.

"Right here."

' _Ma'am,'_ he added silently. Saying it out loud would probably result in him getting punched.

She held out a red, white and blue paper plate and Sam passed her four pancakes from the big platter in his arms.

"I'm not sure how pancakes are going to convince New York's most badass vigilante to come to Captain America's Fourth of July party," Sam grumbled.

Unfortunately for Sam, Call me Steve and a miniature holographic version of Tony (freaking) Stark projecting from Steve's phone had just joined the two outside on the fire escape. The tiny, five inch tall Iron (freaking-no Sam would not get over this-) Man crossed his metal arms.

"Hang on." The holographic version was glaring up at Sam. "Did you just say _Spider-Man_ is New York's most badass vigilante? Are you not even aware who's Tower you're living in, who pays for your fancy wingsuit, and who's saved _the world_ a bazillion times?"

Sam did his best to keep his cool, but his cheeks may have reddened a little bit.

"Yes, but-"

The Black (freaking hot) Widow crossed her arms over her chest.

"Tony, get over it. Sam, don't encourage him. It won't be too long before everyone notices that the man hosting the fourth of July party isn't at the party." She beckoned to Sam. "Pass out the rest of the pancakes and let's get Peter back."

Each of the Avengers took a generous helping of the pancakes. They smelled _so_ _good._ Sam's stomach grumbled embarrassingly loud. Dr. Banner sent him a pitying look. Clint snorted.

"Alright." Steve had a commanding voice on, one that made Sam want to salute. "Everyone to their positions."

"Hey man," Sam protested. "What about me?"

This actually made Steve falter. He considered it for a moment.

"You're backup. Is your comm on?"

"Yes."

"Good. You stay here and come in if you're needed."

Backup. Sam's first official Avengers mission, and he was backup. He did his best not to take it as an insult. Instead, he shifted the much smaller pile of pancakes to the other arm, and leaned against Steve's house.

"Affirmative."

"Then we're on our way."

Steve backed up, and leaped over the flimsy railing, executing a perfect dive to the ground below. Sam goggled. The pancakes in Steve's hands weren't even partially smashed.

Natasha followed next, using a series of complicated moves and jumps from bar to bar to make her way to the ground.

Clint huffed.

"Oh no she doesn't."

He actually _tossed_ his pile of pancakes off the fire escape. Sam was sure that was the end of those poor, innocent circles of fried bread, but then Clint, in a lightning fast move, pulled out his bow and shot a grappling arrow. It was like the 'Luke saves Leia Tarzan style' scene in Star Wars. Clint swung across the street, intercepting the pancakes before they were even halfway to the ground, and neatly dropped down to the sidewalk below.

Bruce was left.

The older scientist offered Sam a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks, Sam. I guess that's my cue."

Dr. Banner carefully made his way down the fire escape stairs, pancakes safely in one hand, and the other hand desperately clinging to the rail. Sam watched him make his way out of the alley. Moments later, a motorcycle engine revved to life. Sam shifted the pancakes to his other arm.

His first official Avengers mission.

* * *

"Peter," SUSANNA alerted.

Peter finished laying the drunk man on his balcony on the third story of a large apartment complex. The guy was a decent person, just going through a tough time. Peter had found passed out in an alleyway a little ways from a bar. He'd had SUSANNA find the man's address.

He straightened up and slid into the shadows.

"What's up?"

"Stark just activated the tracker on your phone."

Peter stilled.

"Do you know why?"

"JARVIS won't tell me. I suspect that it has to do with your disappearance from the party."

There was a disapproving tone to her voice. Peter knew she wanted him to socialize, but he didn't agree with her this time. Within the ten minutes he'd been out, he'd already stopped three crimes.

"I'm not going back. You told me to give it a chance-"

"You were there five minutes!"

"-and I did." Spider-Man shrugged. "Parties just aren't my thing."

"Spider-Man…"

"Why are you getting on my case? I just caught three criminals!"

SUSANNA huffed.

"You need a vacation. Take a break. Just tonight. Please?"

"Please turn the tracker on my phone off," he insisted. "I'm more useful out here than I am at a party anyways."

SUSANNA grumbled, but complied.

She turned off the tracker on his phone.

But Peter had never told her not to text Stark Peter's current location.

* * *

Spider-Man couldn't help but groan when he saw the approaching Avenger, a short distance away. He almost turned around and ran off, but stopped himself in the last second. He'd have to talk to the man eventually.

He made his tone light.

"Hey! Funny seeing you here!"

He strolled towards Steve, forcing a light bounce in his steps.

"Hi Pe- er, Spider-Man." Was that guilt in Steve's tone? Spider-Man hoped not. He'd heard plenty enough guilt in all the Avengers voices for the past few months. "Why'd you leave the party? I hope we weren't being rude."

Steve's brow was crinkled and his mouth was bended in that concerned, honest frown. He was carrying a paper plate stacked high with pancakes. Why was Captain America carrying around a stack of pancakes?

Because they were Peter's favorite food. His stomach grumbled hungrily at the thought of eating them. He hadn't had dinner after all, thanks to patriotic Darcy. Steve's thoughtful olive branch, his offering of peace and friendship between the Avengers and Spider-Man, didn't make him feel better. It made him feel worse.

What would have happened to Michelle if Peter had stayed at the party?

The Avengers didn't get it. They left the small crimes to the vigilantes. They'd save the world a billion times, but wouldn't save one person from the world. They didn't see little children face abuse or older war veterans face neglect. They might be preventing crime from high above in their tower, but they didn't stand in the muck and filth of the streets along with the normal people.

Spider-Man shrugged.

"Parties just aren't my thing. And the fourth's a busy night for crime."

There were footsteps behind him. Spider-Man turned. Bruce was approaching.

With another stack of pancakes.

Inwardly, Peter groaned. Outwardly, Spider-Man feigned ignorance.

"Hey Bruce! What are _you_ doing out in the streets of New York late at night?"

Bruce knew Peter too well. He wasn't going to play along with Peter's attempt at avoiding the topic at hand.

"Why'd you leave Steve's Fourth of July party?"

Peter put his best clueless look on his face.

"Wow! Today's the Fourth of July? I thought it was Boxing day! Funny, my artificial intelligence must be having other issues, besides _listening when I tell her to turn the tracker on my phone off._

"Hey!" SUSANNA snapped. "I resent that, you antisocial attercop! And I did turn it off!"

Peter heard Tony snort. He glanced down at Bruce's hand. A five inch tall holographic Stark, complete with the Snark, floated over the screen of Bruce's phone.

"Bilbo Baggins. Nice," Tony complimented.

"Then how did they find me?" Peter asked SUSANNA. His temper was a thread of web, slowly being stretched farther and farther apart. Any more, and Peter was sure it would snap. He _really_ wasn't in the mood.

"I texted Tony your location," SUSANNA drawled. "You never said I couldn't.

"Guys, he's using his diversion method, trying to distract us from our mission," Bruce warned. "Don't let him."

He took a step closer to Peter.

"C'mon, Peter. New York can live without you for one night. Join us? Please?"

Peter softened. Why did he have such a good puppy face? It made him look so heartfelt, so innocent.

"If you don't, the Hulk is going to take over and drag you there."

Or not.

"Besides," Steve added. "We brought pancakes."

Despite the fact that both Avengers had been carrying those around for who knows how long, they still looked delicious. They were soft and fluffy, just like Aunt May had made them. They practically begged to enter Peter's mouth, and slide happily down into his stomach. His tastebuds practically leaped out of his mouth in pure desire.

' _Just one night off,'_ a traitorous thought whispered. ' _Just one.'_

Maybe one night off wouldn't be so bad.

Romanoff and Barton emerged from the shadows, each with a platter of pancakes in hand. Spider-Man's eyes widened.

"How many pancakes did you make?"

"Enough to feed a hungry, teenage spider-boy," Natasha responded.

' _Just one night off,'_ the voice coaxed. _'You know you need it.'_

For a moment, Peter considered it.

In the distance, there was a loud, shrill scream. It was abruptly cut off. Everyone whipped their heads around. Spider-Man tensed. He leaped up, onto the nearest building. His hands and feet easily navigated up the side of the apartment complex.

"Pet- Spider-Man! Wait!"

Spider-Man didn't look back at the sound of Steve's voice. He reached the roof of the building. Without even the slightest hesitation, he leaped off, and shot out a string of web.

* * *

The Avengers watched Spider-Man disappear around the corner, then turned to Steve for instruction. His face was grim.

"I get the feeling we're going to need back-up. Stark, pull up Falcon on comms."

A moment later, the voice of their newest addition came through.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Sam," Steve said. "Time for Plan B."

They could almost see Falcon's mood improve. If Steve had placed a bet, he would've bet Sam was beaming like a kid in a candy store.

"I'm on it."

Back at Steve's apartment, Sam's grin was ear to ear. He reached into his backpack, and pulled out his wing suit.

"My first real Avengers mission!"

He may have whooped as he flew off the fire escape, into the black Brooklyn sky.

* * *

 _Thwick._ Spider-Man gracefully free-fell for a moment, before the web caught him. He jolted, and swung above the quiet street below his feet. _Thwick._ He landed on the top of another rooftop, this one overlooking a dead-end alleyway. Sharp eyes scanned for the smallest movement, and sensitive ears listened for even the most minute sound.

Shadows near a door shifted. Noisy, frantic breaths became audible. There.

Swift and silent, he slithered down the back of the fire escape, to the big dumpster below. He perched himself on top, concealed by the darkness.

"I told you I needed you home."

The sound of a slap. A muffled gasp. Spider-Man's lips thinned. His hands clenched into fists.

"Why'd you sneak out Michelle?" The man mocked. "Was I not clear enough?"

The shadows shifted again. A tall man swung a teenager around. She was sent flying onto her back, landing with a nasty thump on the hard ground. Tufts of curly brown hair went flying every which direction.

She had to be at least four years younger than Peter.

There were almost inaudible footsteps near the entrance to the alleyway. The Avengers arrived at the scene, their features concealed by shadow. Peter grit his teeth.

To think he'd considered going to a party, while crimes like this were going on.

The big man's black eyes glittered. He raised his foot up in the air and aimed it at her chest. The girl- Michelle -scrambled backwards on her hands and feet, eyes wide.

The next moment, the man was hanging upside down, ankle in Spider-Man's red hand.

"I think you've made yourself perfectly clear." Spider-Man's voice might have been deceptively light, but his movements were more forceful and lethal than usual. "You're a coward. Pick on someone your own size."

He dropped the man. The heavy figure awkwardly landed on his stomach with a painful _fwhomp._ Two swift globs of webs had the man's hands pinned to the ground.

"Mind your own business, you bi-"

Another _thwip,_ and the jerk's mouth was satisfyingly webbed shut.

Spider-Man ignored the thrashing and muffled curses, and went to help up Michelle. She climbed to her feet before he could, leaning on the dumpster for support.

"You okay?"

She turned at him, eyebrows bent down in a heated glare.

"What were you thinking?" She hissed. "Now he's just going to beat me up more."

This wasn't the first time he'd encountered a situation like this. Kids and teens stuck in nasty situations they were unwilling to get out of, either in fear of the system or because of another family member that needed their protection. Spider-Man encountered it regularly and it infuriated him. He hated it when there was nothing he could do to guarantee that these kids wouldn't end up with more abuses because he'd stopped one.

Spider-Man remained apathetic to her venom. He reached into his pocket for a pen.

"Hand."

She eyed him distrustfully before offering him her palm. The wrist already had bad bruises. It looked like a bad sprain. He scribbled a number in blue ink.

"If you ever want to get out, call that. A Susanna will answer. She's got resources available for you, including ways to make you disappear for a little while if you need to and places to stay, and she can contact me."

They had set up the number months ago. SUSANNA would answer calls and get them out of the situation. A few times, Peter had had to make quick excuses to people in his normal life to go help these kids get out of immediate danger. About fifty percent called eventually. Spider-Man did his best not to think about what happened to the rest.

"Put some ice on that wrist," he commanded softly. "The webs will dissolve in a few hours."

Michelle opened her mouth like she was going to retort, before she shut it again. The tension went out of her shoulders. She went from bold and ready to fight, to a puppet only being held up by fragile string.

"I will," She muttered.

That was the best he could do… with her. Spider-Man stalked back over to the man. He knelt down so his mask was almost eye level with the man's face.

"Touch her again," he threatened in low tones, "and I'll hurt you. I _will_ find out about it and I _will_ be watching."

He didn't have patience for anyone, not even SUSANNA. SUSANNA wisely kept silent, leaving Peter to cool down. If Spider-Man had had any good mood left, it was gone now.

The Avengers waiting at the entrance of the alleyway did nothing to improve it. He didn't greet them as he stalked past.

When they started to follow him, he spun around.

" _What_?"

None of them knew what to say. Spider-Man could see it on their faces. They were at a loss for words, or, knew better than to attempt to speak. He was about to web himself away, when he realized there were five figures, not four present.

The dark-skinned man wearing something bulky on his back was not a person Spider-Man recognized. He frowned. Who was that guy?

He didn't have a chance to ask. Steve had come to a conclusion. The hero's expression, which was one of painful realization, changed.

"Forget Code Web," He told the Avengers. "Forget the backup plan. And forget the fourth of July."

"Hang on," Five inch holographic Tony interjected. "Did _Captain America_ just tell us to _forget the fourth of July_?

"Shut up Tony," Romanoff demanded.

Steve had grown wise enough to ignore Tony's attempts at humor.

"Tonight, we're crime fighting."

He turned to Spider-Man.

"Where do you want us to go?"

Peter's mouth dropped open like a fish.

That was the last thing he had expected.

He felt a small smile grow beneath the mask. The tension that had gathered in his shoulders leaked out.

"I don't know. SUSANNA, where are we needed?"

"Good decision, Captain," SUSANNA congratulated. "Spider-Man, there's a group robbing electronic shops throughout Manhattan. The police are having a bit of trouble keeping them down. There's two different violent bar fights in two different parts of Queens, and there's a growing fire down in Bushwick. Sounds like the firemen aren't able to rescue a family cat- and it's not their priority."

"Who likes cats?" Tony groused.

Bruce timidly rose a hand. Barton, Romanoff, and Steve all simultaneously rolled their eyes.

"Don't interrupt, you loud-mouthed tin can," SUSANNA snapped. "And if anyone's feeling generous, it sounds like Daredevil could use some assistance in Hell."

There was silence for a moment. Bruce whistled.

"Sounds like you could use help more often, Spider-Man." He glanced down at his arms. "It seems like we aren't going to have time to eat these pancakes. What are we going to do with them?"

Peter felt something warm and cheery spring up within his chest. His small smile grew wider and wider.

If this was what having friends was like, Peter wanted more of those.

"Steve, you take the Manhattan group. Romanoff and Barton, I want you in Queens. And-" Spider-Man paused, turning to the new guy. "Who are you?"

The man stepped forward and put out a hand. "Hey man. I'm Sam, the most recent addition to the Avengers." Somewhat awkwardly, Spider-Man shook his hand. "Are those wings on your back?"

The man broke out in a big, white-toothed grin. "Maybe. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you could go save a cat."

At the incredulous look on Sam's face, Peter chuckled.

"My first official Avengers mission," Sam muttered under his breath. "And I'm rescuing a cat."

"I'll take Hell," Spider-Man continued. "And Bruce will take the pancakes to the homeless shelter down on 7th. Everyone up for it?"

There was a certain excitement in the air as each of the Avengers gave their enthusiastic (less so in Sam's case) affirmative.

"Hey, what about me?" Tony questioned.

Steve's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Aren't you supposed to be schmoozing up to other CEO's in California right now?"

"Umm… yeah. But Pepper's taking care of it!"

"Pepper is a saint," Steve mumbled. "I don't know how she puts up with him." Then louder, "Just go help Pepper. We've got New York covered. Everyone?"

They were.

"Good. Get to it."

* * *

 **My tumblr is gammathetaalpha.**

 **Also, go check out nikkiof_shadows on AO3. I beta for her! She recently wrote a story called Peter's Never-ending Stubbornness, which features Dad!Tony, Peter, Harley, Ned, MJ, a nasty villain, and Peter being deliciously stubborn. She also wrote Twist of Fate, also featuring Dad!Tony and Kid!Peter, which has over 2500 kudos, and close to 50,000 hits. She's incredible!**


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